Born in Fire
by Anjelle
Summary: He didn't know who the man was, where he came from or why he was there, but he didn't care. For the first time in what he felt was forever, he felt safe.


**So I technically shouldn't be uploading this because it's after midnight where I am, but... it's still Thursday somewhere in the world, right?**

**This is marked as complete, but I actually plan on it being the prologue to a story I plan on posting in the future, once I finish some of the others. So, if you like it and want to see more of it, remember to fav, follow and review! :D**

**Sorry for bombarding you with updates, by the way...**

**Disclaimer: I own the words and plot, but not One Piece itself or the characters.**

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I remember the first time I met him, looked up into those clear blue eyes, tilting my head curiously as I'd never seen him before. He towered over my small body, looking down with a pain I could never understand.

"Hurt?" I had asked, not understanding what that sadness in his eyes stemmed from—the cause of those tears. He simply smiled at me, betraying the pain to kneel down. When he was close I had wondered if he was sick, or simply tired. He looked like he needed sleep. I couldn't comprehend how worn he was, spending an unfair life confined to a form that simply continued to exist, even what everything he knew turned to dust.

When his hands cupped my cheeks, it tickled. They were so calloused and rough—strong—yet held tenderness I, at that age, took for granted. I didn't know what he'd been through, what those hands had done. As a child, you don't wonder things like that. You're only concerned with the here and now, not what came before. Still, the warmth those hands brought with them was unforgettable. It wiped every question from my mind, replacing them with one thought.

_It's okay. He's here. He'll protect me._

To this day, I sometimes wonder if he understood just how much comfort he brought me in that moment—in every moment after.

When his Adam's apple bobbed up and down in a swallow, I could see that he was hesitant. It didn't make sense to me, at the time, but maybe it didn't have to. Maybe I was too young.

Then, he spoke.

"Do you know who I am?" he'd asked.

I, oblivious to the second question hidden between those words, shook my head. His smile faltered but never left as he brushed my bangs from my eyes. For a man as big and intimidating as him, he was gentle. He treated me like glass—like I would crumble beneath his fingertips.

"I'm Marco," he said.

I tried the word out for myself, "Marco," earning an affirmative nod. I didn't understand why he was telling me—thought we were simply introducing ourselves—and pointed to myself, saying a quick "Ace." His tears started up again, warm water trailing down his cheeks as his face contorted into something I couldn't grasp at the time. It was then that he pulled me in, held me close, and wrapped me in the safety of his arms.

"I know," he whispered, voice cracking as he fought back silent cries, "I know."

Unsure of what was wrong, I simply returned the embrace, bunching his shirt in my fists. Neither of us moved for a long while. I didn't know how many minutes passed; it was like the moment was trying to stretch into infinity, to keep us from moving on. It wanted us to stay just as we were, together in a hug more endearing than my young mind could fathom. I didn't know who he was, where he came from or why he was there, but I didn't care, either. I just kept holding on, clutching fast to that shirt so that I wouldn't lose him. He was a stranger but… I didn't want him to go.

"I found you," he uttered softly against my ear, "I found you, Ace."

I remained quiet, allowing him the moment, hoping that I could help alleviate some of the hurt in his voice. If I knew how long it would be before we next met, I wonder what would have changed. Would I have remained quiet? Would I have simply allowed our meeting to pass, just as it did, without making more of an impact?

Would I have asked him to stay?

I didn't know who he was or where he came from, but the feeling of his fingers in my hair and the sound of his heart beating close to my chest filled me with a nostalgic warmth that, to this day, remains just out of reach.

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**A/N: Since it's technically a prologue, I didn't explain the setting (since it would have been explained in the first chapter) so I'll just say it here. It's a few hundred years after Marineford (this story works on the premise that Marco's ability makes him immortal) and Ace was reborn. Here he's about 2 1/2 or 3 (though it's his present self telling the story, in his 20s - you'll notice that he romanticizes a lot of things that he clearly couldn't remember from way back then) and Marco's, well... ageless? If I continue it in the future it'll become MarcoAce but for the sake of the oneshot it's just brotherly. But don't look forward to chapter 1 for a LONG while. Like... 2 months? I should be able to get ****_Skip _****finished by Nov/Dec so yeah, 2 months. Probably. Maybe. Maybe not. I don't know. I'm done rambling. Please tell me what you think and I look forward to hearing what you guys think.**

**Also, my first attempt at 1st person in like 3 years :D It's horrible, I know, but I used to always right in 1st person and I missed it.**

**Adieu~**


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